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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28242099">Are there still beautiful things?</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/malakian/pseuds/malakian'>malakian</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Folklore [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Album: folklore (Taylor Swift), Based on a Taylor Swift Song, Childhood Trauma, Domestic Violence, Gen, Past Child Abuse</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 17:47:20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,913</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28242099</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/malakian/pseuds/malakian</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>And I’ve been meaning to tell you: I think your house is haunted — your dad is always mad and that must be why.</p><p>-</p><p>Based on the song “seven” by Taylor Swift (from the album “folklore”).</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Eileen Prince &amp; Severus Snape, Eileen Prince/Tobias Snape, Lily Evans Potter &amp; Severus Snape, Severus Snape &amp; Tobias Snape</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Folklore [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2050995</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>33</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Are there still beautiful things?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Please note this fic describes child violence and domestic violence. It is not too graphic but it can still trigger you.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Severus walked into the woods, but didn't stop until he was far from the main path, where he felt it was safe to slow down. Looking back, he checked if he was alone, then finally leaned on a tree. Sometimes, when things were too much, he would come to this place; if he stayed very quiet, closed his eyes and cleaned his mind, if he concentrated enough he could almost smell the trees near the house where he grew up. He could pretend not to feel the cold biting on his skin and conjure the warm days in Cokeworth before everything started going wrong, before any of this was part of his world — better yet, before he was part of this world.</p>
<hr/><p>He was seven when everything changed.</p><p>His family was never rich or perfect but they were, to put it simply, happy. It felt now like a different life but he could still remember how much he loved the summer days, when his mother would take him to the woods and teach him about herbs and plants; or when his father would teach him how to track animals or cover his own tracks or make fire. He also remembered his quick escapes to the park when he would swing by himself, feeling the sun on his face, the air running through his hair.</p><p>He didn't think much about those times anymore, and when he did, he did not linger on those thoughts — but they were there, hidden in some dark corner of his mind. Sometimes they emerged without warning, when he heard an accent similar to his father's or stumbled upon a herb he had seen for the first time in his mother's hands, her voice softly saying its name while showing the specific shape of its leaves or the smell it released when crushed. These memories crawled up to the surface of his mind and caught him off guard, making him grip firmly whatever furniture was near him so he wouldn't lose his balance. If he was near other people when it happened, he would swiftly dismiss them before anyone noticed this little crack on his armor.</p><p>If he was alone, however, he would indulge picturing himself in the trees. While studying Occlumency, he had learned that an essential step in occluding his memories was finding a safeplace, somewhere he felt strong enough to be in total control of his mind and his surroundings. He had tried many of them; the old house on Spinner's End failed terribly, because it had been stained by all his later experiences; Hogwarts was never really an option, even though he had tried it once just to make sure he could cross it out; for a while he used the park in Cokeworth because he had no memories of bad things happening there, but slowly it absorbed the aura of Lily's death; then he turned to his Potions lab, and it worked relatively well even though it was never truly stable, and his guess was that the instability of this scenario was due to his experiences in the Potions classroom — he could never feel completely safe around Potions after he started teaching.</p><p>The first time he tried the woods as a safe place he wasn't sure it was going to work because the other Cokeworth scenarios hadn't. But it did — and perfectly. He felt even safer than when he started using the Potions lab, which confused him at the beginning. But thinking back he remembered that he never came back to the woods after that day in June so somehow his memories of that place remained untarnished. </p><p>When he allowed himself this treat, he could feel his feet touching the dirt. The last time he went to the woods he was with his mother; they had been looking for a few herbs to restore their kitchen. While he was inspecting a promising bush, he heard something moving and turned to see a doe. He had never seen one so up close, but his father had taught him all about them. He knew he did not need to be afraid but he also did not want to scare it, so he stood there watching its magnificent brown coat shining in the twilight. They locked eyes for only a few seconds but he never forgot the feeling of having seen an ancient power, as if he had just met a very powerful goddess. Then his mom called him, the magic vanished and the doe ran away. He never saw one of them again until the day he conjured a corporeal Patronus for the first time, and even though his Patronus always made him think of Lily, he knew deep down it was also a nod to those years in the woods when everything — even her — was so distant from him he sometimes felt like he was born again on June 11, 1967.</p>
<hr/><p>Whenever Severus thought about his dad, he first remembered the days in the trees and his father's laughter, especially the one he had on winter days when he drank a bit of scotch and got funnier, lighter. He used to drink on holidays or on really cold days to warm up, because liquor was expensive then, and they could not afford much of anything those days. His father was not an affectionate person so he almost never hugged Severus, but that didn't really matter: the boy felt cared for and, every time his father kindly punched his shoulder and said, “Let's go track, boy,” he knew that he was loved.</p><p>His mother was not a very warm person either. She would sometimes stare at the wall for minutes on end, as if had been transported to a different world. He remembered watching her in those moments and trying to imagine where her mind was. Then she would just come back and smile at him, inviting him to sort out herbs or choose a book to read with her. When his father was working the night shift and in the evening it would be only the two of them in the house, they would sit in the dark as she would tell him stories about old, wise wizards who lived a thousand years ago when there were magic animals and magic potions and magic people, and he would dream about how it would be amazing if people could still be witches. </p><p>That June was hotter than usual and his clothes kept sticking to his body. Sunday had always been his favorite day of the week because he could have his mom and dad at the same time and they could go to the woods together, or sit by the creek and drink the iced sweet tea his mom had made with the herbs he had collected with her. When they arrived at the creek that morning, the day was clear, not one cloud in the sky. </p><p>They sat near the water and enjoyed the good weather, the calm day they had been gifted with. Severus remembered that day perfectly: how he lay on the grass watching the sky, his mother talking to his father in an amiable voice, his father smiling at her and then saying Severus should go swim because it was hot and he would enjoy the cold water. He wanted to, but he was afraid, so his father said he would help him and it would be fun, Severus would love it. There was a tree near the creek with a swing hanging from one of its branches, and Severus sat on the swing; his father started rocking him back and forth.</p><p>“When you’re up there you just jump, boy, it's easy,” he heard his father say.</p><p>At first the idea sounded fun, but then he was swinging and the creek was scary; he was high and it seemed too dangerous, he didn't want to do it anymore but his father kept telling him to jump and he didn't want to disappoint him but he was so frightened. He heard his father say, “Go on, boy, jump!” and closed his eyes, took a deep breath and let go. He felt his body go up in the air and prepared for the feeling of falling down in the water — but it never came. He went up and up and then down but very slowly, then landed softly on the other side of the creek.</p><p>Severus looked down at his feet, trying to understand what had just happened, then turned and looked back at his parents. His mother had a terrified look on her face, hands covering her mouth. His father was looking at him, his eyes widened not in worry or shock, but something he had never seen before — fear. </p><p>”Did this boy just fly? What was that? Eileen, what the fuck is wrong with him?”</p><p>And that was when everything changed. </p>
<hr/><p>Whenever Severus thought about his dad, he first remembered the days in the trees. Then he remembered everything else. </p><p>First came the yelling. His father dragged him home, his mother crying behind them, asking him to stop. Severus was thrown inside his bedroom and locked in there. He could hear the man yelling and the woman crying; doors being slammed; glass breaking. He had no idea what was happening so he stayed in his room, weeping, waiting for it to be over. But it lasted days. His mother came a few times to his door bringing some food and told him to be calm, that everything was going to be okay soon. So he waited.</p><p>Then the yelling stopped, and came the silence. He was allowed to leave his room and for the first time in almost a week they sat together for a meal, but it felt even worse than being locked up in his room: his father did not look at him, his mother was crying all the time and he didn't know what to do because he had no idea what he had done wrong in the first place — he knew something had gone wrong back at the creek, knew he wasn’t supposed to land softly like that, but he had no idea what had happened, so how could he fix it? He tried to say something to cheer up his father but he only managed to say “Dad” before his father slammed a fist on the table, knocking down a glass of water. So Severus finished his tea and went back to his room, wondering if there was anything he could do, wishing he could go back in time and just jump in the creek, because he was now sure that his father was mad at him for not doing that. If he could, he would drag his father back there and swim the whole day, then everything would go back to normal.</p><p>On Monday his father went early to work and Severus decided to approach his mother. So he went downstairs and saw her crying in the kitchen.</p><p>“Mom,” he began, but when she turned the look on her face was so scared he didn't know what to say next. He sat at the kitchen table and stared at his hands; after a minute she sat next to him and sank her head in her hands.</p><p>“Mom, is dad mad at me?” he finally asked. “What did I do? Is it because I didn't jump on the creek?”</p><p>“No, he's — no, it's not because of the creek. The problem is not you.”</p><p>He could sense she was lying. </p><p>“Then why is he not <em> looking </em> at me anymore? Why is he not <em> talking </em> to me?”</p><p>She looked hurt when she managed to stare back at him, and it seemed like she wanted to speak but it took her a long time before she managed to do it.</p><p>“Severus, remember the stories I told you about those old wizards, and magical creatures and schools and spells? Remember the magic world I told you about?”</p><p>“Of course, mom. They're my favorite stories.”</p><p>“They’re not just stories, they're real. I'm a witch and you — you're a wizard, too.”</p><p>There was a little silence. She said it without looking at him and he knew she was just trying to cheer him up. He was a kid but he was not stupid — he knew those things did not exist. When she faced him again he was smiling. She couldn't help but smile back, but it was a sad smile.</p><p>“I'm not lying to you. Have I ever?”</p><p>“No, but mom — those were just <em> stories </em>, there’s no magic. And I'm not —”</p><p>“Severus, you flew that day at the creek. You were supposed to fall inside it but you didn't — you flew to the other side because you were afraid.”</p><p>“I didn’t <em> fly </em>, mom! I don’t know what happened and I’m sorry Dad is mad about that but I didn’t do it on purpose — I don’t —”</p><p>She reached for his hand and squeezed it.</p><p>“You’re not broken or wrong, don't worry. I'm a witch, too, I just haven't done magic in a long time.”</p><p>“What about dad? If you're a witch and I'm wizard then he's —”</p><p>“No, he is not one of us. That's why he's mad — he's mad at me because I didn't tell him about us.”</p><p>“Why did you hide it from him? I mean, if it’s not a bad thing —” he frowned. “Why hide it, then?” </p><p>“Because sometimes people have problems understanding what's different. Your father is — the things he believes, the life he leads are very different from what we are. The things I can do — that <em> we </em> can do — are inexcusable sins for him. I knew he would never be <em> fond </em> of my powers but I wondered if maybe I could just — pretend it didn’t exist. Being with your father was far more important to me than making spells. I thought I could just — erase my past. But truth always finds a way, I guess.”</p><p>He stared at her. He still wasn't buying this story but couldn't understand why she was sticking to it.</p><p>“Can you prove it? Can you make magic for me?”</p><p>She smiled. “Yes. I'll get my wand.”</p><p>“You have a <em> wand </em>?” he gasped.</p><p>She just nodded and went upstairs. In a few minutes she was back with a wooden wand. Severus kept staring at her, now more uneasy.</p><p>“Mom —”</p><p>“What do you want me to do? Would you like some hot tea?”</p><p>She served him a glass of iced tea and, with a tap of her wand, it started to boil. Severus eyes widened.</p><p>“How did you —”</p><p>She smiled and he saw a different gleam in her eyes, a pure joy he didn't remember ever seeing there before.</p><p>“Give me your hand,” she said, reaching for him. “Don't worry, it won't hurt.” </p><p>She swished her wand and murmured a word he did not understand. From between his fingers sprouted a posy of foxgloves. His jaw dropped.</p><p>“<em> Mom </em> ! How did you — but this is —” he held the flowers and felt them, then looked at his mother. “It's <em> true </em>, then. You’re not joking.”</p><p>“It's true, I swear, but this —” she pointed at her wand and the foxgloves, “is a secret for now, okay? Your father’s still upset, let’s give him some time.”</p><p>He was still staring at the flowers in his hand.  “Can I do it?” he asked, reaching for the wand but she didn't allow it.</p><p>“Not yet. When you're old enough you'll go to a Wizarding school and you'll learn all there is to learn. Let's wait til your father calms down and I can tell you more about magic. Okay?”</p><p>Severus nodded. His palms were now sweating as he held the foxgloves, still marveled at how they had appeared out of thin air. All he had to do was wait a few days; his father was going to calm down and see how beautiful magic could be; then his mother would teach him all about the magical world and he would go to a wizarding school and become a real wizard — a great one, like those who ended up in books and about whom people told stories. A universe of possibilities opened up in his mind and he could barely sleep that night, excited about everything life had in store.</p><p>But things didn't go as he planned. After the silence came the drinking — and with it, the beating.</p><p>The first night his father did not come home at the usual time, his mother was worried and wanted to go to the factory in search for him but Severus begged her to stay, so they settled on the kitchen floor, Eileen silently crying and hoping her husband was okay, her son holding her hand. The sun was high and she was already out of her mind, Severus trying to convince her — as well as himself — that everything would be fine, when he finally arrived. The moment the door opened, Severus jumped and ran towards his father, smiling as he cried out, “Dad!". Eileen could barely start saying “<em> Don’t </em>, Severus” before Tobias's hand hit his face so hard he fell sideways. The boy lay on the floor, his father looking at him, face transfigured by hatred. Eileen went for him and saw a bit of blood on his little mouth.</p><p>She looked up at her husband. “Tobias, <em> please </em>, don't do this.”</p><p>Severus tried to recognise his father under that new person. There wasn't even a hint of the man who used to take him to track animals in the woods. For a brief moment his father's expression faltered and Severus believed he was going to come back, but then Tobias raised his hand and knocked down Eileen first. Severus felt something burn inside him and one of the shelves — the one with the only family pictures they had — tumbled over Tobias, who instinctively raised both arms to protect himself. He stared at the splinters of glass and wood on the floor for a second, then stepped forward and hit Severus again and again and again.</p>
<hr/><p>That was the first time Severus's father laid his hand on him and he never forgot the horror he felt when his mother passed out in front of him. That night came to his mind more frequently than he could control, and he had the same nausea every time, even after all these years. Eventually he got used to the beating; that morning, however, was when his father died in his mind, and when his mother started to decay in front of his eyes. Tobias had phases: sometimes he seemed to hate Eileen for lying to him, so he would target her; then he would hate Severus for being a “disgusting little freak” and turn to him; sometimes he hated both equally because Severus was a freak and Eileen was an even bigger abomination, and they would suffer together. </p><p>Severus isolated himself and never went back to the woods, the place where he had lived his happiest moments. He spent hours inside his bedroom, reading or dreaming about how everything had been once; he wanted to dream about a different future, too, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. The last time he allowed his mind to project a happy life was the day his mother told him he was a wizard — and that did not go well. So he pushed the magic stories to the back of his mind and focused on what was important now: surviving. </p><p>But his mother had another plan. By the time Severus turned 8 he had manifested magic a few more times — once pushing his father when he was about to strike his mother, knocking him down on the floor; once exploding the kitchen window when his father turned to him; and once when he was alone, touching an almost dead foxglove in the garden and making it bright and colorful again. One day she knocked on his bedroom door, a few books on her arms and a worried look on her face. </p><p>“Severus, sit down. Pay attention, this is important.”</p><p>They sat together and she told him about how her magic books were hidden and she was ready to pass them to him but he had to be careful. First because his father could never dream of it; second because she wanted him to learn but he couldn't really practice since he was still too young.</p><p>“I promise that when it's safe I'll teach you a few tricks with my wand but now it's too soon. For now, you have to <em> promise me </em> you will study these books as if your life was bound to them. Can you promise that?”</p><p>“Of course, mom,” he agreed.</p><p>“This is very important because —” she looked at him, her eyes lingering on his last bruises, one on the left corner of his mouth, the other on his right eye, and her thoughts trailed off; he waited patiently until she was back, tears filling her eyes. “I don't think I was a good mom to you, Severus. No — don’t argue, just listen. I should have protected you from him, I should be able to take you out of here but the truth is that I can't. And I'm sorry. What I <em> can </em> do is make sure you go to Hogwarts and that you're well prepared to become a great wizard.” </p><p>Severus looked down at the books she had set in front of him. “Mom, I don't think father will allow me to go to Hogwarts.”</p><p>“We’re not asking for his permission. You’re going no matter what, but don't worry about this. This is my responsability, I'll do my part and you do yours by studying hard. Deal?” </p><p>He still had no clue about how she was going to convince his father to let him study in a magic school, but then he looked at her bruises — the right cheek, the neck — and nodded, agreeing just to make her happy.</p>
<hr/><p>Severus had been studying magic by himself for almost a year when he first saw Lily Evans. His mother had not allowed him to use a wand yet, but he was religiously reading the books she had given him and had started to really enjoy the moments he passed studying. His father was also a bit less violent towards with him, which gave him a little more will to do things. He felt more comfortable going out of the house because his bruises now had the time to heal, so no one would stare at him too much. Sometimes he asked his mother to bewitch one of the books to look like an innocent muggle one and he would sit in the park, reading. He usually had a good spot hidden by some bushes but that day when he arrived the park was weirdly empty, giving him the chance to sit under a tree. He was there for only a few minutes when he heard two girls talking and laughing. They were obviously coming to play in the park, so he hid again in the bushes. But they were talking so loud. He peeked at them from behind the bush. The older girl had blonde hair and looked angry at the other — her sister, maybe? —, a little redhead girl who was jumping all around. He vaguely remembered her from school but didn't know her name. He returned to his reading and tried to concentrate but it was difficult now with that much noise. The little girl kept disobeying her sister and they were always shouting at each other. Severus closed his book and stood up to leave, but looked back once more just in time to see the older girl reprimanding her sister because she was — Severus's eyes widened — making flowers blossom around herself.</p><p>He wanted to walk slowly to his house but couldn't — in what seemed like 10 seconds he was opening the door, calling for his mom. She came running downstairs, her face whitened in fear as she asked, “What happened?”</p><p>“Mom, there's a <em> witch </em>! There’s a witch in the park!” he managed to say, running in her direction, his eyes glowing.</p><p>“A witch in the park? What do you mean?”</p><p>“This girl! I saw her doing magic! She's a witch like — like <em> me </em> , like <em> us </em> . And she lives <em> here </em>.” </p><p>“I don't think there are other wizards living around here, Severus. Are you sure about what you saw?”</p><p>“Yes! She was growing flowers just like you did!” </p><p>Eileen frowned. “Maybe she's a muggleborn, then.”</p><p>“What's that, 'muggleborn'?”</p><p>“It's when Muggle parents, non-magical parents, have a magical child.”</p><p>“How can that happen?”</p><p>“I don't know, Severus. But it happens, so maybe this girl is like this.” She stopped for a second. “Do you know her name?” </p><p>He deflated a bit. “No, I didn't talk to her.”</p><p>“Maybe it's better this way. Muggleborns can be — complicated sometimes. And we don't know who she is, maybe she's from one of those posh families across the river. It's better to stay away.”</p><p>She rubbed his shoulder and left him, a million questions still bubbling inside his head.</p><p>When he arrived at school next morning he was determined to find out who exactly the redhead girl was. He needed to know if her family was really of Muggles and — more importantly — if they were rich. He needed to know if they could be friends because, if she was going to Hogwarts too, it would be so much fun to go with a friend. He sat on the first row, but far from the door. He waited to see if she arrived and it was almost time for class when she entered the classroom — and he immediately understood why he didn't have many memories of her in school: she was completely different from the girl in the park; she wore the same colored dress, but her hair was now on a patterned braid; she was not laughing or even smiling, but stared at her feet the whole way to her desk. After seeing her in the park the previous day, looking at her now was like watching a Christmas tree with the lights off. </p><p>Severus considered talking to her but didn't feel really comfortable to do it at school — he was not very popular and wondered if maybe it could potentially harm any first contact between them. No, he would wait and talk to her somewhere safe — maybe at the park when she's all bright and magical again.</p><p>The first time he talked to Lily did not go well. Her sister ruined everything and took Lily away before they could talk properly.</p><p>Severus went back to his house feeling as if his last chance of having a friend had just escaped from between his fingers. But things changed the next week. He was back at his hidden spot reading a book on magical plants when he heard her arriving. </p><p>“Hi,” she said, seeming a little embarrassed.</p><p>“Hello,” he replied, his heart racing as he faked a calm expression.</p><p>“Can I sit here with you?” she asked. </p><p>“Yes,” he answered, closing his book.</p><p>“What are you doing?” she inquired as she found a place to sit comfortably.</p><p>“Studying magic,” he said, looking down to his book. She didn't say anything for a while and he copied her. </p><p>“Why did you say I was a witch?” she inquired after a few minutes, now looking directly at him. </p><p>“Because it's true. I saw you doing magic, I saw what you did with the flowers. My mother can do that, too.”</p><p>Her eyes were now bright and she couldn't really contain her excitement.</p><p>“I don't know how I do it, I just <em> do it </em>. My sister tried it too and I tried to teach her but she can't.”</p><p>“Then she’s not a witch, but you definitely are. And your magic is <em> beautiful </em>,” he paused and watched her for a minute. “Can you do it again?”</p><p>She opened a big smile. “Yes! Give me your hand. Both of them.”</p><p>He laid his hands in front of her, his palms up, and she laid her own hands on top of them. He felt a jolt but refrained from retracting them. The only people who ever touched him were his father — to beat him — and his mother — to comfort him. This was a different kind of touch — it was not violent nor particularly affectionate, just <em> normal </em>. He had forgotten what it felt like doing normal things. Lily closed her eyes and squeezed his hands, and for a short second it felt like nothing would happen — but then lilies blossomed from between his fingers and they smiled together.</p><p>“This is beautiful,” he managed to say.</p><p>“Show me what you can do,” she asked, and he felt a tone in her voice, as if she needed a definitive proof that he was not lying to her and they were really equals.</p><p>“I can't do anything as beautiful as this but —” he looked at the trees around them. “Let me try something.”</p><p>He closed his eyes and immediately felt the air change around them. The leaves from the yew tree detached themselves and started coming in their direction, then circled them and changed from green to a glorious golden color; in a few seconds it looked like they were in the middle of a hurricane. He opened his eyes and saw Lily looking around, her eyes as wide as her smile, her face glimmering with the golden leaves. Slowly, the leaves fell on the floor and she beamed at him, her whole face lit up in joy. Severus had forgotten there were still beautiful things in the world. He couldn't help but smile back.</p>
<hr/><p>For almost two years they prepared themselves to go to Hogwarts, getting more excited as each day passed by. Severus now had not only <em> something </em> to long for but also <em> someone </em> to share this with, and for the first time in a long time he felt like the present could be as enjoyable as the future sounded promising.</p><p>His father was still violent, but he had started to fear Severus because, although the boy was too small to fight back, he sometimes managed to burst in magic and hurt his father back. That meant the beating was not that frequent anymore and he could heal the bruises properly — and so did his mother, but she never fought Tobias back, even though she had a wand and could definitely defend herself properly.</p><p>Lily always wanted to visit his house but Severus never agreed on it. She’d wanted to meet the only adult witch she knew about but Severus didn't like the idea of her seeing his mother bruised and thinner by the day. Lily’s house, on the other hand, was open to him, even if her parents were hesitant at first and her sister always made sure to be rude to him; they would spend hours playing in her garden as he told her stories about the school and the magic world. She never talked about his weird clothes or how he was never properly clean or how he was always a little too hungry when he stayed for lunch. He knew she noticed those things, however; she was just too polite to say anything. But one day he went running to meet her at the park, a new book on his hand, and when he arrived she looked at his face, eyes widened, and couldn't hide the shock. He knew what she was looking at: last night his father was particularly drunk and, of course, particularly violent; when he arrived he went for Eileen but Severus tried to interfere and received his father’s anger for the both of them. His mother was supposed to heal his wounds but  when he woke up she was not in the kitchen. Her room was locked and when he knocked on the door she just shouted “Leave!”; he decided that maybe the best option was just leaving her alone. So when he left for the park he still had a black eye and numerous cuts across his face, and Lily was now anxiously looking from one to another.</p><p>“What happened to your face?” she asked with a thin voice.</p><p>“Nothing, just — don’t worry, I'm fine. I have to show you this book my mom gave me.”</p><p>He started showing her the pages and Lily tried to focus on what he was saying but kept staring back at his wounds. She looked at him like this for days, until after his bruises had faded away. But even then she would still eye him in a weird way when she thought he was not aware.</p><p>“Sev,” she said one day, as they were sitting in silence under the yew tree, magic books scattered around them. “I've been thinking about your dad.”</p><p>His head shot at her. “What? Why?”</p><p>“You know how you say he's always mad and he doesn't like anything and how he — beats you?” she finished in a weak voice, unable to look him in the eye.</p><p>Severus felt his face burning and shrugged. “Sometimes. He doesn't do it that often anymore.”</p><p>“Well, anyway, I've been thinking. And I think <em> maybe </em> your house is haunted.”</p><p>“<em>What </em>?!” he looked at her, a shadow of fear crossing his eyes.</p><p>“It makes sense! Look, if there is a ghost in your house it could be haunting your father, and maybe this is why he's always mad.”</p><p>She sat down, now looking him in the eye.</p><p>“I don't know how to fight a ghost <em> but </em> I think you should come live with me.”</p><p>Severus gave her a sad smile. “That would be fun. We could be like brother and sister and become this super magic wizard duo!”</p><p>She beamed. “Yes! What about a magic rock band? Or a duo of magical explorers?”</p><p>He laughed. “I would like that.”</p><p>“And then you won't have to cry or hide in the closet anymore. He could never hurt you again.”</p><p>Severus ripped off a bit of grass. “Things will change once I go to Hogwarts.”</p><p>Lily squeezed his hand and smiled at him.</p>
<hr/><p>Severus opened his eyes and he was back at the woods near Hogwarts. It had started snowing while he was sitting under a tree, thinking about things that happened almost 30 years ago, and his hands were freezing. He had a bitter taste in his mouth. He took a deep breath and dusted the snow off his cloak. Lily was supposed to turn 36 the next week, just a couple of weeks after him, he thought with a heavy tight on his chest. He could barely remember her face now — everything was fading slowly, just disappearing in the air, and there was nothing he could do about it. He wondered if she would vanish completely before he died or if he would still be able to close his eyes and see her face when he completed his mission. She was vanishing now but once, 25 years ago, she had held his hand and said they would be unforgettable; that one day people would tell stories about their brave acts and incredible contributions to the magical world. He had really believed her back then, but now he just wiped away his tears, conjured a posy of lilies and placed it under the tree, like he did every time he almost lost his mind, and walked back to the castle. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>if you liked it, please consider giving kudos and/or a comment telling me what you thought of it. &lt;3</p></blockquote></div></div>
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